Rules of Engagement
by Aqua Lion
Summary: With the threat of Doom seemingly ending once and for all, three former pilots work to cope with old identities, new roles, and maybe a communication problem or two. Maybe.
1. Advice and Consent

**Rules of Engagement: Advice and Consent**

 _I honest to god thought this was going to be a one-shot. My bunnies disagreed with me, and my track record for arguing with them is, well... not good. So, now it's going to be a three-parter!  
_ _This chapter is still just a little chat during Deceive and Conquer..._

* * *

The castle was quiet.

It wasn't fair; the castle wasn't _supposed_ to be so quiet anymore, so... lonely. The silence was supposed to have stopped when Keith found Black Lion. When the cadets had arrived, and with them the rest of the team, fleeing Wade's clutches at last. Things were supposed to have gone back to _normal_ when they were together again, even if it was just them against the universe.

Hadn't it always sort of been them against the universe?

Allura, Queen of Arus— _what?_ It was still a little surreal—stood alone in the Castle of Lions control room, eyes fixed on the main screen. Battle had finally been joined. The two hours of anticipation as the team journeyed to Doom had been bad enough. Now it was just agonizing, watching helplessly in the silence.

Normal? Nothing was normal anymore. On the other hand, everything old was new...

For a moment she was eighteen again, hidden away in the castle, watching five strangers fighting desperately to save her planet. She had every faith now, as she had then. But it ached to see such sacrifices on behalf of her and her people. That was why she had to be there. It was her duty to—

"I don't get how you can _do_ that."

Allura looked up from the consoles, a little startled by the voice. Or maybe it was just the tone—irreverent, frustrated, a thousand other things that no Arusian would ever dare to display around their Queen. It would be so _improper_. But the voice belonged to one of the very few who still treated her as a person, let alone an equal—and the only one of them in the castle now.

"Welcome back, Pidge." He'd departed Control almost as soon as the Force launched. Allura couldn't fathom it. "Where've you been?"

"Recalibrating the southwest emplacements and installing some new ones. Boosted our firepower on that facing by about twenty percent, had to upgrade the capacitor coils with..." He launched into the technical details quickly, even for Pidge. Even though he knew she wouldn't have needed that much information even if she _did_ understand what he was saying.

Restlessness. No matter how differently it manifested, she knew it all too well.

"Pidge..."

"...Sorry." Frown. "But seriously. I don't get how you can just... sit there _watching_."

Ah. And that was where he'd come in. "Much like I don't understand how you can be off playing with your capacitor coils at a moment like this." He flinched, and she realized how that had come across... and a slight blush sprang to her cheeks as she realized he'd still taken it the _least_ bad way possible. Lance would have had a field day. "That wasn't a reproach."

"Yeah, I know. Trust me, you make it pretty clear when you're intending to reproach." He smirked and circled around her, passing up the empty chair in favor of sitting on the console itself. The amused expression didn't last long. "It's totally illogical. Knowing there's nothing we can do, but pretending sitting here staring at a fight we aren't part of will somehow influence its outcome. You _can't_ tell me you don't feel it too."

He sounded almost pleading. Searching for a connection in the restlessness. She understood that, too, but...

 _Somehow I don't think my answer's going to help much._

Allura closed her eyes for a moment, letting the memories reassert themselves again. Suddenly she found herself envying Pidge immensely. At least he had defenses to upgrade, concrete tasks that still contributed to the safety of Arus. If he couldn't watch, he could walk away without it being selfish. Whereas she... "That's exactly why I have to be here. To at least bear witness."

"A symbolic gesture?"

Well, yes. "What is the monarchy if not a symbol, really? I've always been protected. Even before you arrived. Coran, and the few soldiers we had left, they guarded me. I was the Princess. When the five of you first came here, you went into battle... and here I was, protected again." She shook her head. "It's how it's always been."

The answer only seemed to frustrate him more, as she'd known it would. "Not _always_."

"No. Not always." Sigh. "I learned to fly Blue Lion, and learned that I could do something more. I didn't _have_ to be protected, I could fight and protect others. And yet here I am." She gestured expansively. "Being a pilot for the Voltron Force was an honor and a privilege. The best thing I've ever done. But I've always known my birthright would place me right back here in time."

Pidge considered that for a minute then seemed to accept it, nodding and looking away. "Lucky you."

Discretion being the better part of valor—and no small bit of diplomacy too—Allura decided maybe the strong front wasn't the way to go here after all. It was sometimes easy to forget how young he still was, how vulnerable he could be when his intellect couldn't give him the answers. "It's not easy for me either," she said gently. "I'm just used to trusting others to fight."

"That's the thing, isn't it?" He shook his head. "I should be _out there_. I've been here for what, five minutes, and I'm already second guessing everything."

That didn't surprise her. He _did_ have his control freak tendencies, though to his credit at least he recognized them. "But you know Vince was ready. You never would've given up your key if you didn't have absolute certainty. You don't do things like that."

"Of course he was ready." He sighed and ran his hand along the console. "I'm just not so sure I was."

That _did_ surprise her. _Okay, maybe he does do things like that_. "Pidge..."

"You want to talk about birthrights? Baltans are born to be soldiers!" He drew a smart star and absently skipped it across the floor with a disgusted look. "I was a warrior, and I gave up the fight. It was the right thing to do for the team. But what do I have left?"

Allura grimaced; she'd known he was taking it hard, but not that hard. _Oh, Pidge._ "You don't mean that. I know you don't. Whatever you've done, the one thing you have not done is given up fighting. You just moved to a different battlefield..." She rested a hand on his shoulder and was pleasantly surprised when he didn't flinch away. Usually Hunk was the only one allowed to do that. "And even if I accepted your premise, you've been with us far too long to be asking the rest of that."

He laughed softly. "I've been Green Lion's pilot too long."

"So the team means nothing to you?"

"The team means everything to me!" Seemingly startled by his own vehemence, he hesitated. Or maybe he was just gathering his nerve. "...I'm just not sure what _I_ mean to me. On one hand I know I can be more useful here, on the other it's hard to get around stepping down because I felt obsolete."

"Well you're certainly not _obsolete_." She squeezed his shoulder. "No more than I am."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're the queen."

She wasn't entirely certain how to take that. "Oh, come on, Pidge. I'm no more defined by my title than you..." She stopped as it sank in. "...Oh."

He raised the other eyebrow.

 _Walked right into that._ And here she'd just been envying his holding on to his purpose. _Everyone always sees what others have first. Even I'm not immune_.

A particularly loud crash drew both of their eyes to the main screen for a moment. Pidge looked away quickly, clenching his fists; Allura watched for another minute more, until she was certain Voltron held the upper hand. "With any luck, it won't matter soon. If the war ends here, we all may have a whole new reality to adjust to."

"Yeah, about that." He slid off his perch, crossing his arms. "Not that I'm questioning your faith in Daniel... much. But to spare you any more embarrassing and hilarious rumors, may I suggest the awkward attempts to stick a crown on Keith's head might go better _after_ a little bit of that adjustment has happened?"

...Well _that_ wasn't where she'd expected this conversation to go. And no, that incident hadn't gone remotely how she'd hoped. Something told her she wouldn't get away with trying to deflect, so she shrugged. "Maybe? I mean, of course you can suggest it! I just..." She groaned as no good protest presented itself. "I'm sure we'll talk about it more, at least. You're right, I didn't pick the greatest timing in the world for a proposal."

"Oh, was that what it was?" He leaned against the console and looked at her. "I just heard you gave him a job offer."

 _Seriously?_ "Who told you _that_?"

"Hmm..." Smirk. "I think everyone else who was in the room."

When she considered that that pretty much amounted to Lance and Hunk, it didn't surprise her either. "Of course they did. It wasn't _that_ bad."

"I heard it kind of was."

"It was _not_." Her protest was a little more emphatic than strictly necessary, and he burst into laughter. "Oh, okay. Maybe a little?" She sighed and shook her head, gesturing in frustration. "I hadn't really thought through the wording."

Pidge sobered, tilting his head. "Destiny forgot to leave you a script."

"Something like that." She shot him a mildly suspicious look, just to make it clear she knew what he'd done there. Pidge didn't openly mock the idea of destiny... unlike some _others_ she knew. But he didn't believe in it either. Destiny, after all, was illogical. "But it's certainly made its will clear enough without words. Nor was I really going to argue the point..."

The smirk was back. "Of course not."

"It's not exactly my most noble sacrifice in the name of fate, I know." _That_ sacrifice was large, blue, and made of metal, and they'd discussed that one already. "What was I supposed to do, though? Learning Keith was Arusian... it was like a fairy tale wish coming true."

Something flickered in his eyes—the sharp flash of understanding that so often accompanied his research breakthroughs. Having it turned on _her_ was more than a little disconcerting. "So that's the catalyst?" He'd murmured it almost to himself, then seemed to snap out of it. "Um, you probably should rethink your phrasing, because when you put it like that it sounds terrible."

Allura blinked. "What... huh? What's terrible about it?"

"Just that after so many years, you suddenly find out he's Arusian, and _that's_ why you're so sure destiny wants you taking things to the next level? I know you too well to read anything into it. But it's not a good look."

...Oh. _Oh_. Despite what he'd said about not reading into it she retreated a step, completely taken aback. That had never even occurred to her. "Is that really how everyone's taking it?"

"No idea." Shrug. "I don't actually gossip about your love life, you know. I just listen to Lance complaining that destiny should publicize its visits better."

Allura couldn't help a laugh, though it didn't last. "It's nowhere near so simple or... prejudicial."

"I already told you I know that." He gave her another searching look. "Though I can tell you're just dying to explain it to be absolutely sure, so I'm listening."

That got him a scowl purely on principle. But he wasn't wrong.

"It's another matter of royal duty. The people are difficult to please." She sighed and leaned over the back of the empty chair. "We can thank Wade for some of that, but even before. You remember how frightened they were when the five of you first arrived. Arus has always been a proud planet, wary of outsiders. You understand that."

Nod. Balto wasn't exactly known for its unconditional embrace of outsiders either. "Of course."

"Arus is fighting for its life, but Voltron isn't piloted by Arusians. Even now that grates on some. I didn't really feel I had the right to go up against law and tradition, try to convince my people to accept an outsider as _king_ just for my sake. Not in the middle of a war, asking them to sacrifice so much already. Not to mention he's still in command of that war. Better to wait until it's finished."

"Makes sense to me..." Frown. "Except I think there's one small flaw in your logic."

That seemed to be a theme. "And _you're_ just dying to tell me what it is."

"I'm only trying to help." He shook his head. "But you know if you wait for Keith to be done fighting, you're going to be waiting forever."

Allura winced. That thought had occurred to her before, of course; when they'd defeated Lotor only to have Wade surface, forcing Keith on the run, she'd been snarling about it to her pillow every night. But that was different. They were on the cusp of peace now, real peace... "We can't be at war forever. And Daniel truly has made such progress, besides—"

"—And maybe this really will be the last battle, and maybe Daniel will prove he's ready to take over, but none of that _matters_ , Allura." Pidge gave an odd grin. "The very next day, you'll be trying to convince him to do king stuff and he'll be rallying the civilians into a militia or something, just in case. It's what he does... who he is."

Of course she knew that. Keith was the consummate soldier, said to be the finest the Alliance had ever produced. His devotion to duty was legendary. But _really_. "He does know how to relax, Pidge."

"Oh sure." The grin remained. "For a few minutes at a time before he reverts to his defaults. What do you really think is going to happen if you just take the Fearless Leader and put him next to you on the throne? He'll _lighten up?_ No chance."

That didn't amuse her near as much as it seemed to amuse him. It certainly wasn't what she wanted out of her relationship with Keith. Or was that selfish too? "Maybe that's for the best." She frowned at the floor. "Arus needs a king that will put its safety and security first..."

"That is exactly the opposite of the point I'm trying to make." She could feel his piercing gaze on her even without looking. "Arus doesn't need a king. _You_ need a king."

Well that cut right to the heart of things, didn't it? Allura was so stunned that any intelligent answer she might have offered fled; instead some old rote response managed to escape. "Arus needs heirs."

At that Pidge looked just as stunned as she'd felt. "...Oh, hello Nanny! You look so much _different_ than I remember you."

Was it possible to die of blushing? That would be a great one for the history books. _Allura the Third, reigned two weeks. Died of embarrassment. ...Left no heirs._ "Oh, hush."

"Gladly. Do you have any idea how little I want to think about that?" He rolled his eyes. "Though it's surprisingly close to being relevant. You were _almost_ there."

 _Almost_. "I suppose it's not worth asking you to just say what you mean?"

Only Pidge could pull off a pious _smirk_. "How will you ever learn if I do all the work for you?"

The only appropriate response to that was smacking him, so that was what she did. "Brat."

"Totally."

Allura giggled, then shook her head again. "Say I grant you your point. If Arus doesn't need a king, but I do, what practical difference does that make?"

"Practical? No idea. I'm just trying to help you sell this to Keith in a way he'll actually buy it." For about half a second he glanced at the monitor. "Don't tell him it's his duty to Arus. He's already _doing_ that, in spades. Tell him something different."

What he was getting at should be obvious. She knew that, but she couldn't place it, her mind racing to sort out what part of the job was so different. Diplomacy? No, not so much. She would still be the head of state, Keith would have little to do with that part of the politics. But then what else was there, other than his losing Black Lion?

"I don't quite follow..."

He tilted his head. "You love him, don't you?"

...Yes, what he was getting at had been _obvious_. So obvious she'd skipped right over it. "Of course! But—"

"—But nothing. That's all you have to offer him that matters, Allura. ...And I thought it was sort of the point of marriage anyway?"

 _If only_. "You need to learn more about monarchies."

"Monarchies need to learn more about humans."

That wasn't a bad point at all, and in fact Allura agreed wholeheartedly. But considering it was coming from the cynical Baltan, she gave him an incredulous look anyway. "What has gone wrong with the galaxy that has _you_ trying to sell _me_ on idealism?"

Smirk. "I don't believe half your lectures, doesn't mean I don't listen to them."

"Have I mentioned you're a brat?"

"It's come up."

How that smug grin made him so _endearing_ was a mystery to her. "And who have you been listening to that's made you such an expert on romance?"

"Expert?" He laughed. "I'm not claiming to know a thing about romance here. I just know Keith."

Allura started to point out she did too, then stopped. Sometimes she forgot how long the others had known each other before coming to Arus; it felt like they'd been part of her world forever. Of course the others knew parts of him she might not yet.

Yet? That was optimistic. But why not? She did still believe in destiny. And perhaps more to the point...

 _Do you love him?_

Of course she did. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it wasn't the proper royal priority or pageantry. But she did love Keith, almost desperately. And maybe Pidge was right. Maybe that really should be all that mattered.

"So what you're telling me is that I need to stop worrying about making him king, and focus on making him my husband."

"Exactly."

"And I suppose you think that's as simple as telling him I love him?"

"You know, I'll bet he's already noticed that. Putting it out in the open seems like the logical place to start though." Shrug. "I mean, if you feel that's insufficient, human mating rituals also involve alcohol, flowers, and chocolate. I think the more you have of one the less you need of the others."

Part of Allura dearly wanted to ask about Baltan _mating rituals_ , just to embarrass him. Her better judgment won out. He was having his own problems, and she did appreciate his insight... even if he was the last person she'd ever have expected it from.

There was something in that, wasn't there?

For a moment she just looked at him, as if for the first time. They'd spent next to no time together since the team came back, really. They worked in different spheres. She remembered him before, that wild little kid who'd been just as likely to climb the hangar walls as to work on the equipment inside. But he'd changed. Time had refined him from precocious to outright brilliant, and the years under Wade's harsh gaze had settled him down. That had been evident, yes, but so much had been going on...

It was only just now fully sinking in that Pidge had _grown up_. And suddenly she suspected his current identity crisis went far beyond Green Lion. After all, she couldn't have been the only one expecting things to go back to normal when the others returned.

 _When he left here,_ he _was the child. When he came back he was teaching three of them._

She could've just asked him about the new insight forming in her mind, but she wasn't about to let him off that easily. Not after all the time he'd just spent taunting her. Instead she wrapped him up in a hug, tousling his hair as he squawked indignantly and fought to get loose. "Oh honestly, Pidge."

"Honestly yourself!" He slipped her grip and gave her the most petulant look anyone could ask for. Only Hunk was usually even crazy enough to _try_ that. "What brought that on?"

"Just making a point." She gave him a knowing smirk of her own. "I think someone needs a reminder that despite all this newfound wisdom, our wonderful, brilliant, _bratty_ little kid brother remains exactly that."

For a moment he froze, eyes going wide. Then a wry grin crept over his face. "The new ones aren't providing enough of that for you?"

"They'll never be able to compete with the master." Allura arched a challenging eyebrow. "Why would that have changed? I don't see you treating me any different just because I'm the queen."

Pidge snorted. "Why would I do that? You're still the same..." Now it was his turn to have walked right into it. "...Oh."

"See?" She smiled gently. "Voltron is evolving, and the Force is evolving with it. But no matter how your role changes, it doesn't change who you _are_. Not to us."

He lowered his eyes, considering that. "That simple?"

No, she supposed it wasn't simple. Not with how long he'd been defining himself by those roles. But on the other hand, if anyone could learn... she grinned as the obvious response presented itself. "Every bit as simple as me just needing to tell Keith how I feel."

Pidge laughed. "Aha. I understand."

Before she could reassure him on that count, a massive explosion shook the room. They were both up with their weapons drawn in an instant, then both realized at the same moment the explosion hadn't been anywhere near them. Flames were filling the monitors instead.

"Oh Gods..."

"Holy _hells_."

For an instant, Allura was certain her heart had stopped. She had faith. Of course she had faith. But they were still half a galaxy away from the battle, at the mercy of unreliable scanners and radio silence. How could she not feel a moment of fear?

 _Please, please..._

The smoke gave way entirely too slowly for her tastes, though it only could have been a couple of seconds. And it gave way to what she'd hoped and prayed for. Voltron crouched over a few scattered bits of debris, the Blazing Sword shining in Doom's darkness.

"...They did it." She could barely get out more than a whisper. "They did it!"

"Of course they did." Pidge's tone was pretty much the opposite of confident. "Never had any doubt."

Noticing another sensation as the adrenaline rush faded, Allura looked down and tilted her head. "That's why you're clinging to my arm in a panic?"

Immediately he pulled away, scowling. "...Oh, shut up."

"Your secret's safe with me."

"Uh huh." He grinned wickedly. "You know what this means, right?"

It meant quite a lot of things, but if she tried to list them all off he would probably mock her again. "What?"

"It means you have two hours to figure out how you're going to give your boyfriend a better job offer."

Just for that, she stepped forward and ruffled his hair again. "I think I'll manage." Again he pulled away, swatting her hand halfheartedly. "...Thank you, Pidge."

He blinked, then laughed softly and nodded. "Any time. And thank you, too, though if you do _that_ one more time I'm going to _smart star you to a wall_."

Allura didn't even try to contain her laughter. "Go on, Pidge. Go do genius things with capacitor coils. I'm never going to get any work done if you just stay here teasing me."

"Work. Right." He flipped his hair and tossed one last smirk over his shoulder. "Good luck with that. ...Seriously."

 _Good luck._ She was probably going to need it. But at least she had had somewhere to start now. Some idea of how to go about this thing that was so much more complicated than destiny had led her to believe. Just to be safe, though...

Two hours was plenty of time to track down some alcohol, flowers, and chocolate.


	2. Lawful Authority

**Rules of Engagement: Lawful Authority**

* * *

Well. He hadn't seen _that_ coming.

Really, why _hadn't_ he seen that coming?

Pidge stood in Green Lion's den, the last in his round of damage assessments. The lions had all taken a beating on Doom. It felt strange to be doing it like this; studying the aftermath of battle, rather than being acutely aware of every shot they'd taken when it happened. Not that he'd never done such assessments before, but not... not like _this_.

Maybe that was why he wasn't leaving, even though he was finished.

"...How did it go, Green?" He placed a hand on one of the lion's claws, closing his eyes to take it in. "You're taking to Vince okay? Looks like he didn't treat you _too_ badly." The metal was warm. He'd done countless hours of work on every one of the lions. Only Green was always warm to the touch, a warmth he knew wasn't physical.

He shouldn't say what he wanted to, but...

"Do you miss me?" he whispered. "I miss you."

Already.

 _One fight, Pidge. You've sat out one fight and you're whining like an initiate. Step it up. You've got work to do._

Of course Green didn't answer, but really, the warmth was answer enough. The warmth and the soft green glow of his voltcom. Maybe he could even convince himself Allura was right—that he hadn't really given up the battle. No matter where or how he fought, this part of him remained.

 _I am still the Green Lion._

That was probably why it hurt so damned much. But nobody had ever said any of this would be easy.

Finally opening his eyes, he looked up at the lion and nodded once. "I'll be back to fix you up properly later. See you, Green." Couldn't stay here forever. Much as it might be tempting right now.

For the second time today, he found Control already occupied when he entered. And that brought him back to the thought that had periodically been surfacing in his mind for the last few hours.

Still hadn't seen that coming.

"Keith, what're you doing here?"

Keith was standing at the main console, typing away, and didn't seem at all surprised to be spoken to. "Evening, Pidge. I was just going over some logistics, supply chains..."

 _Mmhmm. That's exactly what he's supposed to be doing right now_. He approached and looked around his commander's shoulder at the requisition forms. _Commander?_ Was that right anymore? Was he king already? The fact that he was here right now seemed to suggest _no_ on that last one. And that was interesting.

"What's all this for?"

"Preparedness. Now that I'm going to have more free time I thought I might see about forming a militia. Voltron is all well and good, but the more options we have the better."

Pidge stared at him for a moment, then turned so Keith wouldn't notice him struggling against the laughter. "You, uh, you certainly never change."

For the first time Keith turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "And? You hate change."

That was true. Pidge _didn't_ like change. He liked knowing things, understanding things, grasping every nuance and detail. He needed full command of all facts, all data. That was his strength. That was his purpose. That was what he could use to protect his team, his family.

It was hard to do that when things kept _changing_.

Still...

"I had expectations," he said delicately. "My personal feelings on change aside, you _did_ just step down from Black Lion. We barely had time to say 'welcome back'. And frankly, that isn't a great way to do it." _I'd know_. "Are you sure about this?"

"You know, Allura asked me the same thing."

 _Did she really._ "Well good! It's nice to be agreed with. Tells me other people are intelligent."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Is it really that strange? We've defeated Lotor once and for all. If I'm going to get out, it seems like this is the moment to do it."

He had not seen that coming either. "Um, you saying you want out _is_ strange, actually."

"I didn't say I want out."

 _Oh. Of course_. This was rapidly getting frustrating. Social interaction wasn't necessarily one of his talents, but _observation_ was. He was supposed to understand the Force. Keith was being unusually difficult. "You realize how little sense you're making right now?"

Instead of an explanation, he received a skeptical side-eye. "What brought the inquisition down on me?"

That wasn't entirely fair. "I just asked a simple question. You're the one who made it complicated."

"Right." Keith crossed his arms. "I know what you're trying to do, Pidge. And I do appreciate it. But let me remind you, _you_ didn't have the entire team second-guessing you to your face after you stepped down. Think you'd be coping quite so well if you had?"

...Ouch.

 _Well done, genius. You are being exactly the opposite of helpful._

"Sorry," he said softly. "I'll uh, let you get back to your militia." Militia. Honestly. He'd thought at least that would take a full _day_ to—

"—I didn't say I wouldn't talk to you."

Pidge blinked. "Uh..."

"That _is_ what you were going for, right? I was just saying."

Even more interesting... and he'd deserved that, really. His social calibration had still been set to the _other_ member of Team No Lion. But Allura was easy. If he was the Force's bratty kid brother, in some respects she was still the innocent little sister. There was an easy, instinctive kinship there, regardless of how rarely they exercised it.

Keith? Not so much. Keith was the beacon of stormy stoicism at the heart of the Force's maelstrom, and he didn't really confide in them. Or at least not in _him_. But things were changing.

Operational parameters had been quite emphatically set, anyway. "Message received."

Keith nodded. "It's simple, anyway. I don't want out, but it's not about what _I_ want. It never has been."

Ah. That did make more sense. "Allura wanted you to step down."

"Yes." Frown. "...Well, I thought she did."

And now they were right back to things he hadn't seen coming. Pidge really wished he would knock that off. Keith wasn't acting logically, given what he knew—which could only mean something he knew was incorrect. One obvious possibility was coming to mind...

Might as well ask. Though he probably shouldn't ask directly, given the answer was expecting, so he went with the next best option. "What, did she withdraw the job offer?"

"Job offer." That earned him the steely-eyed Command Stare that struck terror in the hearts of cadets, desire in the hearts of Arusian royalty, and mild amusement in the heart of at least one resident tech ninja. "...Pretty sure I know who told you _that_. No, it's not that she withdrew it." He leaned over the console and sighed. "But I expected she'd be a little happier about me stepping down. I've told her I'm confident in my decision, but she's making it clear she doesn't believe me."

"I don't believe you either."

"That's not really the same thing."

Heh. "You have _no_ idea."

 _So after all that, she hasn't actually proposed yet. Trouble finding flowers?_

 _Are you about to get yourself in the middle of this mess again?_

 _Totally._

 _Of course. Beats worrying about your own problems, right? Coward._

 _Shut up._

"Pidge?"

He jumped; Keith was giving him a quizzical look. "Sorry. Just thinking." Maybe _arguing with himself_ would've been more honest, but it couldn't go anywhere good. For Baltans that was normal. Humans considered it a sign of mental disorder. "You were saying?"

Keith shook his head and leaned over, resting his hands on the console. "I'm as confident as possible, at least. I keep trying to make sense of what happened on Doom... Daniel's strategy was brilliant."

This was certainly not the moment to mention he'd been too busy giving Allura relationship advice to watch the battle all that closely—as if he could've concentrated on it much more without driving himself crazy, anyway. "Maybe he's actually been paying attention in class after all. Who knew?"

"I have no idea how he came up with it."

Ah. Now _that_ was a whole new implication. "Really?"

Keith nodded. "Why couldn't I see it? Any of it? All I can come up with is that I must have been distracted."

Pidge found that awfully unlikely. "When have you _ever_ let yourself be distracted in combat?"

"That's exactly my point." He could see it in Keith's eyes, frustration sparking like thunderbolts. "I thought I was focused, but the results speak for themselves. So either I'm losing my touch outright, or I just wasn't as focused as I thought." Frown. "And what's not to be distracted by? Allura wants me to be _king_."

"She _wants_ you to _marry_ her."

As soon as he said it he thought better of it. Fortunately, Keith didn't catch what he was getting at. "That's what I just said."

"Right, sorry."

Even more fortunately, he didn't follow up on the point. "It seemed like a sign, I guess. If my personal feelings are detracting from my combat ability, I don't belong in Black Lion. And _that_ I'm certain of."

 _Far be it from me to point out he just put_ Daniel _in Black Lion._ It wasn't that Pidge wasn't happy for the last of the cadets; he was, very much so. He knew a little something about being the kid nobody took seriously, and about overcoming it. But putting his personal feelings aside was not one of Daniel's great strengths.

...And when _had_ he become a strategic genius? They'd figure that out later, he supposed.

Back to the issue at hand. Which, annoyingly, also seemed to defy everything he knew about Keith. "So you were subconsciously dwelling on a coronation. Got to admit, I did not think you'd want to be king all that much."

"I don't."

 _Damn it!_

 _No, wait, that makes me right, doesn't it?_

 _That makes you wrong about being wrong._

 _Now this is getting silly._

Shaking it off, he started to ask what sense _that_ made, then stopped. He knew. Of course he knew. He remembered.

"But if it's what Allura wants, it's what you want, right?"

Keith shot him a scowl, then a wry smile crept over his face. "You won't believe me if I deny that, either. No point making the attempt." He closed his eyes. "I didn't do this lightly, even if it seemed abrupt. _You_ understand that."

Oh, did he ever. "Completely."

Nodding, Keith opened his eyes again and grimaced. "When I made this decision for _her_ , I didn't really anticipate immediately having to defend it from her."

Something about the way he said that... "And that's why you're here spending quality time with supply chains?"

 _That_ got him a glare that could've boiled water on Crydor. But before he could even back off, it faded. "I just thought I'd relax a bit."

Finding militia organization relaxing was, as Hunk would put it, the Keith-iest thing to ever have Keithed. It also probably explained why Allura hadn't proposed yet... and it seemed like her proposing would solve this problem. "Are humans pathologically incapable of just _talking_ to each other?" he muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

Oops. "Nothing."

"Right." Keith's eyes narrowed. "You know something I don't, don't you?"

 _Well_... "Isn't that my job?"

"Granted."

It was taking every fragment of Pidge's considerable willpower not to just tell him _exactly_ what he knew. But that was Allura's job. Instead he tried a different angle. "She's just worried about you. I'm not an expert on romance or anything," _though I seem to be faking it an awful lot today,_ "but it seems like if you've reached the point where you're giving up a core piece of your identity for her, you maybe should get used to that."

Frown. "She doesn't need to."

 _Oh for hell's sake._ "Yeah, and I don't _need_ to use plasma dampeners when I'm calibrating the elemental resonance batteries, but it works a lot better that way."

Keith stared blankly at him, and he met the stare evenly; it seemed to go on for an awfully long time.

"...Not a great metaphor?"

"No."

 _Here we go again._ "Keith, _why_ are you more worried about what she wants than what you want?" _All your gods help you if you try to tell me it's your duty_.

"Because it's my _duty_."

Now it was Pidge's turn to glare.

Finally Keith rolled his eyes again, leaning back against the arm of the command chair. "So I care about her. That's all the more reason that she shouldn't be having to worry about me."

"She's also Allura, and worrying about people is a thing she does. Not to mention, isn't that kind of the point of a relationship?"

 _I've spent entirely too much time today explaining human interaction to humans._

 _Benefits of being an outside observer?_

 _Let's go with that._

Unlike the last time he'd tried to make that point, it seemed to give Keith pause. "...If you weren't right so often you'd be absolutely insufferable, you know that?"

Pidge raised an eyebrow. "Funny, usually people are calling me insufferable _because_ I'm right."

"I tend to look at whether the benefits outweigh the costs." He turned and shook his head. "I just want what's best for her, for Arus... for all of us. I'm not sure how it's ended up so difficult."

Somewhat against his better judgment, Pidge approached and nudged his arm. That was about as much physical encouragement as he gave—which evened out nicely, since it was also pretty much all Keith would accept. "Because change is annoying and terrible. But occasionally worth it."

"Occasionally." Another side-eye. "And how's it treating you?"

He'd just had to go there, hadn't he? "I'm adjusting. I'm fine. I'm not the one hiding from the person I just gave up my whole life for."

Scowl. "I am not _hiding_." He turned back to the console, typing a few commands, and the requisition forms went away. "See? Just finishing up a little relaxation."

"Uh huh." Crossing his arms, Pidge leaned against the dimmed console. "Go accept that job offer you've been dwelling on. Then you can _actually_ relax."

"I think I'll do that." But instead of going anywhere, Keith's icy blue eyes fixed on him, suddenly stern. "You know, when I do become king... the Arusian crown may have ultimate authority over the military, but it isn't really within the standard chain of command. You'll be the one in charge of the castle."

Pidge nodded. He kind of already was, for all the use that'd been in the last battle. Hadn't that been the point of stepping down? "I've been working on routing all the remaining defenses through Control, that'll make it—"

"—That isn't what I meant, Pidge."

 _Well, okay then_. In that case he was really very confused. Again. "If you want me to pretend I have the slightest insight on the staff..." He had every respect for the castle staff, which was why he was quite positive he had _nothing_ of value to add on that front. His domestic talents were limited to making coffee without blowing anything up.

"No. I'm saying that as the castle tactical officer, you'll have final authority over the castle _and_ all of its forces."

Ah. Tactical officer? He hadn't been called that before. It seemed accurate though; it had been Coran's position before he'd become ambassador, and they hadn't really had a suitable replacement in the meantime. But castle forces? They'd never rebuilt the infantry guard after Wade forced them to disband it. The only 'castle forces' left were five large metal cats, which—

Suddenly it hit him.

"Keith." He retreated back to the most delicate tone he could muster. "If you would please reword that to mean something else, really _anything_ else, I'd appreciate it."

His commander who was not technically his commander anymore actually cracked a _grin_. "How does a promotion to Captain sound to you?"

"Completely ridiculous!" He couldn't be serious, could he?

Of course he could. Keith didn't _have_ a sense of humor. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you aren't reacting logically right now." He indicated the monitors. "What's ridiculous about it? The team needs oversight, someone removed from the immediacy of combat. Isn't that what _you_ said you were stepping down for?"

...Hells. He certainly hadn't thought of it that way.

 _So, about that identity crisis you were just starting to cope with._

It wasn't that he'd never had any authority; Keith had looked to him more often when the team became active again. But that had been situational. He'd been the rational, obedient left hand to Lance's rebellious right. And he hadn't even really had the chance to get used to _that_. This was... well beyond that.

 _Deflect._ "I'm sure Daniel will somehow find a way to pay even less attention to me than we ever did to Coran. Besides, he's got Lance to be a check on..."

... _Damn it._

Keith smirked. "I didn't think so."

"Yeah, yeah." Pidge sighed and closed his eyes, taking a few breaths to steady himself. Maybe his reaction _wasn't_ entirely logical, but the mere thought of such a jump in rank sparked a visceral rejection. Even the fact that it wouldn't be direct command didn't help. "I'm not command material, Keith. You know this. At best I can try to put the brakes on if we're flying at a wall."

"That _is_ command material." Keith clapped him on the shoulder. "But you know what? Don't worry about the rank for now. Forget I said anything about it. Just do what you do, Pidge. You'll see."

Another echo.

 _No matter how your role changes, it doesn't change who you are._

 _Just do what you do._

"...We'll see," he agreed quietly. Well, half-agreed. "But I think you'd better go see about your own promotion before you try to dump one on me, anyway."

"I think you may be right." Keith nodded and stepped back. "I'll see you later, Pidge."

"Later, Keith." He stood and watched him go, making sure he actually _left_. Not that he really doubted it, but things had gone strangely enough today. No more of that nonsense. Maybe he'd helped. And if he'd found some answers of his own, so much the better.

Maybe...

 _Yeah, Keith. Later. ...And you'd better have a fancy hat on next time._


End file.
